How I came to be stood on Andover train station on a Saturday afternoon nearing the end of November waving inwardly to a disappearing train as realisation hit, is a different story altogether. Suffice to say rail engineering works had disrupted the normal timetable and a personal trip to Oxford for a meal led me via Andover.
We arrived at the station and realised we had just missed the train to London, but we had a complicated list of ticket related purchases to organise so the lack of pressure was not unwelcome. Finally sorted with tickets we made our way to the platform. A warming cup of tea was essential and a few moments to catch up on all the last 19 years’ worth of chit chat although I was unaware really of the whole significance of the conversation.
Number 1 Son had announced earlier that week that he had…
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